


To You, Always.

by drunkinthemorning



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014), crossovers - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dates, Everything possibly cute and adorable, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Karry, Long-Distance Relationship, Romance, Superflash - Freeform, Supergirl / Flash crossover, Tasteful Sex, worlds apart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkinthemorning/pseuds/drunkinthemorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-/ And Barry Allen knows, that there will come a day, where he'll have to choose between risking the fate of both their worlds, and the chance to see Kara Danvers for just one more day. /- </p><p>In which they're madly in love and more, but are separated by worlds, by dimensions apart, and each time he visits, might be his very last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, I've planned for my story to be one of those "5 + 1" types, something revolving around the concept of, "The five times Barry visited Kara, and the one time he stayed." But it soon evolved into something else, and it grew and it grew. I like the concept of them both sharing so much in common, that they could always count on and depend on each other. They both have busy lives, they don't have time to date, but they are attracted to the other, and are always able to confide in the other, thus creating an easy relationship of sorts.
> 
> I wanted the idea of Barry visiting her world every half to a year's time, a long period between each. They'll catch up, and if they're ever both single on his visits, they'll go on a date together. Kind of like a long dimension (distance) tryst. It isn't a label, nor an actual relationship. It could lead to more, but he is unable to visit constantly (read on and you'll see why), and thus it brings a lot of angst and uncertainty into the already overflowing romance and love.
> 
> And upon writing the story till that part, it evolved even further, and once you reach the end of the chapter, you'll see why (:

She pushed back a lock of blond, and her eyes, as blue as the skies themselves, were lit lambently by the entering moonlight. She was caressed by the natural glow, the warm luminescence an accentuating blush upon her sun-kissed skin. Her hair was worn loosely around her shoulders, and they were sent fluttering in ripples upon his hastened arrival. He skidded to a stop outside her apartment, unannounced, but she was already there, leaning casually against the apartment's doorway; undoubtedly because of her ability to hear his approach from even miles away.

Her lips curled in a playful manner, and she took a step back; a silent beckon for him to follow, and he did, they entered her unlit apartment, the doors quickly closing behind the two. They stumbled into the darkened living space, and even in all the time passed, he remembered every little detail of her tiny apartment; almost half a year since they've last met, and in all the months of longing absence and wishful yearning, nothing existed in this current instance to hold them apart.

There was a flash of red, and he was before her. She took a step back, and found herself pressed up against the apartment's wall. He eliminated the space between both and their foreheads touched. Her breath caught, and his fingers found her own. They remained in that position for the longest time; words were unnecessary, and only silence lingered between the two. They relished in the intimacy of their close proximity, the presence of one another.

His hands reached slowly towards her face, and her eyes instinctively flickered to a close. His fingers, as warm and gentle as they were, tilted her chin upwards, towards him, and her lips parted for a brief second, before they were pressed warmly against his own.

She inhaled sharply, her hands drifting to his chest. His arms circled her waist in response, drawing her closer in embrace, an intoxicating mix of their longing bodies. Even after all those nights, he kissed her the same way as he did the first time; gentle and soft, as though she wasn't made of Kryptonian flesh, but of fragile glass, that could shatter upon even the slightest accidental graze.

He tasted minty, along with a hint of nutmeg and blackberries. The reason for his particular scent was something they have never been able to explain, a molecular change of some sort in his body structure whenever passing through worlds. He always ended up smelling like nutmeg and blackberries. He started to take breath mints during their later visits, but she never minded; it tasted pleasant, and like everything else, it was extremely cute and lovable.

He lingered onto her lower lip, and she found herself trembling in flushes of growing warmth. He was the only one who knew, that beyond her impenetrable flesh and many invulnerabilities, there remained parts of her still sensitive, and susceptible to a different sort of physical approach. His thumb brushed up against her cheek, and through her enhanced abilities, she felt the sensation magnify a thousandfold.

Their lips parted, and their eyes met; his were as green as they were blue; warm, loving, and everything more; they lit up in the darkened room, and it melted her in its entirety. There was little else she could do but shiver under such ardent green-blues.

She reached for the top of his buttoned up shirt, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons one at a time. Their lips met once more, and her hands slipped into the underside of his clothing, feeling his bare skin, flushed warmly against her own. Her hands leaned against his naked chest, and they stopped only enough for her to remove her clothing - her dress fell, and only undergarments remained. She would have preferred something a little sexier, but she was always caught off-guard by his unannounced visits.

She couldn't help but to smile at how endearing their actions were; his clothing were not ripped off with superhuman strength, and hers weren't removed in a reddened streak of speed; it felt human, and she realized, it had always been so. There were times when they teamed up to take down the occasional villainous metahuman, but between their lovely dates and midnight trysts, it was never Supergirl and Flash, never the Girl of Steel and the Scarlet Speeder, but Kara Danvers, and Barry Allen.

His eyes trailed downwards, and she found herself blushing red; her embarrassment did not stem from her own discomfort of the situation, but from the way he was looking at her. He wanted her. And she was his, entirely and all. He leaned forward, hands finding her own, and she found herself pinned up against her apartment's wall.

She had the strength to launch him across the room with a single flick of her wrists; the both of them knew it, but at the same time, it excited her; being vulnerable to a man such as Barry Allen.

His lips found their way back along her neck, her head tilting to allowing him better access; she trembled, and he was soon granted the softest of mewls. Her legs curled along the side of his waist, and an arm found its way onto her hips. He kissed his way downwards, along her collarbone and to the center of her breasts.

He paused briefly, just enough for him to reach around her and unclasp the bra that she wore. It fell, already forgotten, and there remained only the faint silhouette of her bare breasts in the moonlit room. She was untouched by the chilly night time temperature, but still, she shivered, her body responding excitedly to his every touch, his every kiss.

He knew exactly how and where to touch her. His palm grazed across a single breast, his lips descending upon another. She gasped, her back arching towards him, fingers kneading into his scalp, running along the lines of his hair.

There was another flash of red; she blinked, and felt the coming envelopment of her familiar bed rising beneath her. The soft cushions gave way, and she found herself laughing at the way they've traversed the space between her living room and bedroom in a matter of seconds; he wasn't impatient, but she knew he could barely wait, because she felt unequivocally the same.

They kissed again, not as clumsy as they did the first night he visited, but with no less urgency or passion; tongue glided over tongue, as her thighs wrapped around him and locked behind his back. Her spine arched, and as though reading her mind, he returned his way downwards, along the trail of her neck, towards the curves of her breasts. Fingers pushed against the underside of one, as teeth grazed across hardened nubs. It felt electrifying, and she couldn't help but whimper impatiently with need, her legs tightening (but not too hard, she could accidentally crush him) around him, as fingers dug into the below sheets.

He continued downwards, alternating between nips and kisses as he trailed along the tautness of her stomach, coming towards the tips of her remaining undergarment. He breathed, and she stuttered from the flush of warm breath washing across her aching core. Her hips came upwards impatiently, but he was no longer there. He pulled her legs apart, and his lips returned with the softest and most teasing of kisses.

He started slightly above her knee, leaving trails of soft kisses towards her wanting center. His eyes were upon hers the entire time, and it was impossible for her to miss the playful glint as he diverted at the last possible moment, another huff of heat, as his lips pressed upon the other thigh.

She felt an unconscious whimper rising from her throat, one that was as much a growl as a submissive mewl; she could almost feel his smirk burning into the side of her thighs. She was beyond feeling frustrated, and he wasn't helping, not one bit. She was about to voice her complains, when his fingers swirled, and a single finger grazed along the fabric's slit; her lips quickly parted in a soundless moan.

Fingers approached from the top, lifting and sliding beneath the waistband and grazing across the hood of her engorged arousal. It ran in slow teasing circles, while his other pushed the fabric to the side, allowing him to dip his fingers inward, and parting the divides of her labia. He could feel her growing warmth, spreading across his fingers like wildfire. She was already wet, a beautiful glisten against the entering moonlight, and he leaned forward to taste her.

His tongue felt warm, and firm, and it ran up her willing slit and pushed against her trembling clit. His tongue brushed across the tiny knob as he sucked it between his lips. She knew that the sounds she made in response, were quite unbecoming of a superhero, and as his fingers soon joined the mix, gone were her plans to remain modest. Her fingers dug into his scalp, as his own probed into the pleasures of her depth.

His gaze remained, watching her every little response, his fingers expertly prompting and coaxing the most brilliant of reactions. He was slow, then he was fast, he was teasing, then he was suddenly pushing her towards the edge. He gave, and he took, but it was never more than enough, and she was hung torturously upon the precipice of an inevitable climax, but he was still purposefully delaying, every little torturous second.

"Barry…" she whimpered, her hips grinding against him, her voice a frustrated grunt. "Please."

He stopped, and she saw that playful smirk again. "Please what?"

"I…" she huffed, and she could think of a million ways to hurt him. But she didn't. Not now, not ever. His fingers twisted inside of her, and she groaned, her every remaining thought obliterated and brought back to the present.

"Please what?" he repeated.

"I need… to…" she whispered, "Barry… please… I-"

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt the curl of his fingers, the firmer strokes of his tongue; he knew exactly what she needed, and then she was coming, an unsteady inhale as her toes started to curl, her entire body shaking as her climax enveloped her whole.

She was vaguely aware of his kisses afterwards, returning upwards as her arms wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him closer, kissing along his jawline as she tried slowly regaining her lost composure. Her hands slid down the front of his chest, and he tensed as fingers grazed across his hardened form. She reached towards his shoulder, and with Kryptonian strength, flipped him down onto the bed beneath her. She straddled him, legs on both sides.

She reached below her and unbuckled his belt, her fingers reaching inwards and pulling out his pulsing arousal. It brushed against her thighs; a heated tremble, and he gasped as fingers stroked along its length. She adjusted slightly, and he was suddenly poised right below her waiting entrance. She slid downwards, but before the resistance could give way, she retreated upwards, away from his trembling form. She repeated the action, over and over again; until he was breathing heavily, and she was smiling evilly. "Barry Allen, did you really just asked me to beg?"

"Well I…" he blinked and laughed softly. "I couldn't resist. You know that I-"

Her hips barreled down, and he was suddenly inside of her; full, firm, and hot. His chest rose and she gasped in delight. The bed rocked with their rhythm, a rising crescendo of heated exhales and colliding bodies. His hand gripped onto her hips, and hers found their way onto his chest.

During their first night together, Kara quickly learned that while Barry Allen was known as the fastest man alive, his sobriquet did not apply to his bedroom prowess. He might be the fastest man alive, but he certainly wasn't the _fastest man alive_. He could last as long as she needed, and his regenerative abilities meant that he could go as many rounds as they wanted. But for them both, sex was never just about physical needs. There was something else between the two, a bond that was as emotional and as spiritual - in a way that transcends the physical.

She was an alien, and he was from another world, but right now, at this very moment, it defies everything that sets them apart; the boundaries, the obstacles, their differences, torn down and in that moment, nothing existed but the intimacy - the love between both.

It was sudden, and her orgasm consumed her whole, a vividness amplified a thousandfold; and as it did, so did his, an erupting growl as his hips tensed with a final thrust. She flopped down onto his chest, exhausted, and his arms greeted her arrival, a snug wrap around her smaller frame.

"I've missed you," she whispered after a long while, her head buried into the curve of his neck, so softly he barely heard. There was something painfully solemn behind her words, and he understood precisely why; perhaps they were the only two that ever would.

She slid into the space between his arm and ribs, pressing herself up against him in the warmest of cuddles.

"I wish we could stay like this forever. You, me, here."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Me too."

But they both knew he couldn't. Not now, not forever.

* * *

Their worlds are held apart by invisible strings; of barriers and pillars that vibrated at different resonances, preventing the worlds from impacting upon a course of direct collision. But upon each of Barry Allen's visits, the strings are stretched thin, and the barriers and pillars shake as a result of his forceful intrusion into her world.

His abilities went against the force of nature, and as a result of his defiance, there came the repercussions.

Left alone, the strings will hold. But to continue traveling between those worlds, would be to doom them all into a path of direct collision.

And Barry Allen knows, as he looks down and sees how peaceful, how beautiful she is, that there will come a day, where he'll have to choose between risking the fate of two worlds, and seeing Kara Danvers for just one more day.


	2. Chapter 2

It was time for the annual inaugural ball of CatCo Worldwide Media, a yearly celebration of Cat Grant's reign as queen of the media world. It was a time of festive and cheer, a night of drunken celebration and awkward dancing; there was only but a single problem, Kara, well, did not have a date. James Olsen was attending the ball with Lucy, while Winn was attending an important tech conference on the other end of the continent.

Alex offered to use the DEO's databases to vet through potential male colleagues and find her a date, and due to how persistent her older sister was, Kara was almost afraid she would. Eventually, after insisting that she was fine on her own, and that many of her friends were attending dateless as well, Alex conceded in her attempts, and Kara attended on her own.

It was a warm December's evening, a few days short of the coming New Year. Kara was never comfortable with heels, not when she could run hundreds of miles in minutes without. But then again, it was a formal party, and Kara was exceedingly uncomfortable in her adorning blue dress. It fitted perfectly her willowy frame, a striking elegance that matched the softened blues of her eyes. She wore minimal makeup, her hair tied into a bun, and there was no forgetting her trademark glasses. She was in every way, a picture of modest sophistication; nothing overboard, but still beautiful, in an enchanting way.

The conference hall at CatCo was turned into a ballroom of sorts for this particular night, and heads were turned as she made her way into the growing party. Most of the attendees have already arrived, and before long, they were gathered at the podium while Cat Grant gave her usual end-of-the-year speech. Glasses of champagne were sent out, and even though she was entirely immune to alcoholic effects, Kara quickly downed more than a few glasses to count.

The night progressed slowly, and Kara found herself spending most of her time stuffing her face with food at the caterer's table. Everyone she talked to had a date, even the ones that told her they were coming alone. She felt like a flickering lightbulb, an annoying third wheel. Two hours in, and no one even asked her to dance; it was embarrassing and a little bit pathetic.

Kara was hogging the buffet line, going for her third serving of shrimp when she felt the gentlest of taps on her shoulder.

"May I have the dance?"

The crowd was bustling with conversation, and the music was slightly blaring, drowning out most of the speaker's voice. But it was familiar, somehow.

Her heart swelled with excitement; finally, amongst the throngs of attendees, there was finally someone that asked her to dance. She turned, looking exceptionally unglamorous with the plate of half eaten shrimp still on hand. "Yes, I woul-"

Her breath caught, and she felt the all too familiar tightening of her chest at his presence. She blinked, followed by a few more. But he remained, it wasn't the effects of all the champagne she drowned; they did not affect her that way. Barry Allen stood in front of her, dressed in a most immaculate suit, a hand extended towards her, an invitation to dance.

She accepted his hand, and there was a blur of red.

They stumbled onto CatCo's rooftop, greeted by the dazzling night sky, the faraway stars shining upon the busy National City skyline. They were completely alone, and she found herself pressed up against him, slightly out of breath, their fingers still in a soft entwine.

"You told me before," he started to say, "that you've always preferred our moments to be just the two of us." He looked around the deserted floor, "Well, there's only you and me now."

She nodded, her head pressing up against his chest. He was taller than she was, and as her arms reached behind him and squeezed him just a little closer, she could hear the growing thumps of his heart. With her sensitive hearing, they were as clear as day, and she was smiling, because she knew hers must be the same.

They swayed lightly in the night time breeze, neither of them were good dancers, but as of this moment, just the two of them, there was nothing better. He was humming, a tune she recognized as a song from his world. She remembered how bewildered, and slightly broken-hearted he was, when she told him there was no "Katy Perry" in her world. Between his shower singing sessions and karaoke dates, she learned to sing along, and it was what the two of them did – the empty rooftop, their music, their dance.

It was short, but the memory would last forever.

"The last time I was over, I saw your invitation in the mail," he explained when their dance ended. "I knew you didn't ask because it was too soon between my trips. You told me last year you didn't have a date for the previous dances, and I didn't want it to be a common occurrence. So I thought I would surprise you this time by visiting."

"But… it's only been four months," she said, "that means..."

"Yes," he said softly. "I can't stay. Not tonight."

He looked towards the night sky, and even with her microscopic eyesight, there were things only Barry Allen could see.

"The Speedforce," he sighed, "it rumbles in my presence, and the barriers of your world can barely hold its weight."

There was nothing she loved more than his visits, but with each cheerful greeting, comes a sober farewell.

She whispered, "Does that mean…"

He nodded solemnly. "It's going to be awhile before I can see you again, Kara."

They were quiet for the longest time.

"I'm going to miss you, Barry Allen," she said quietly. There was no mistaking the underlining emotions behind such a simple sentence.

His voice trembled, "I'm going to miss you too, Kara Danvers, more than anything else in this world, my world and the next."

They were quiet again, the stars above a solemn company.

She saw the way his eyes suddenly darted to the side, and heard the nervous beat of his heart.

She knew he had to leave, so she said suddenly, "Kiss me."

"Hmm?" he looked back towards her, surprised.

"Before you go," Kara smiled, "kiss me."

"Of course," Barry Allen chuckled, and his hands pressed warmly against her cheeks, pulling her close as their lips met. He kissed her softly, lingering, tenderly, then again, and again, and again, and all of her conflicting thoughts, her apprehension, her fear, dissolved at their closing embrace. What remained, was something vividly pure, and overwhelmingly painful in its inevitability.

Her breath caught, and he noticed. He pulled away, eyes filled with concern.

"I'm… I'm okay," she was breathing harder than usual, and tears, a most unfamiliar sensation, were threatening to fall.

She wiped at her eyes, "There's just something in my-"

And she realized, his were of a misty green. But he was smiling, and as he kissed her again, everything felt alright once more.

"I will come back," he pressed his forehead against hers. "I swear to you, I will."

He was adamant, and his fists were clenched so tightly she could see knuckles bearing white. "I will find a way back to you. Nothing is going to stop me. I will run faster, even if both worlds stand to hold us apart."

She nodded, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything more.

"Because Kara, when I run," he smiled, "I run to you, always."

It was time to go.

"Goodbye, Kara Danvers."

"Goodbye, Barry Allen."

There was a streak of red, and she was alone once more, her dress fluttering slightly in the midnight's chill. It was only then, when the tears started to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, you've learned why the title of this story is so suitably named, "To you, always." 
> 
> Perfect, isn't it?


	3. Chapter 3

Barry Allen turned towards her, his eyes a gentle green upon the ebbing reach of evening's glow. They laid next to the other, her head resting on his arm, her own draped loosely across his chest. They had found themselves an empty spot deep within the forests of National City Park; a quiet little corner grazed by autumn's touch; vibrantly beautiful and serene.

Other than the presence of nature's magnificence, the two were completely - and utterly alone. It's been almost another year since their last encounter, and it was almost another year too long for either one of them. He reached over - a finger lightly brushing against her forehead, pushing away a stray lock of hair. She shivered lightly at the contact, the touch of bare skin sending thrills of electricity down her spine; and she was quite sure it wasn't just because of his metahuman abilities.

"I missed you," he said softly, and he meant every bit of it; more-so than he could say in a single sentence.

But she understood, every part of him; his thoughts, his emotions; the longing he felt, the yearning; the painful inevitability of heartbreak only they could ever experience – she understood, because they were one, in both spirit, heart and more.

"I missed you too," she cupped onto the hand that curled alongside her cheek and nestled into his touch. "Ten months and twenty seven days, is it embarrassing that I kept count?"

"Actually, you've not factored in interdimensional-daylight-saving, so that makes it ten months and twenty eight days," he pointed out before adding in sheepishly, "which is not embarrassing, I knew only because I kept track too."

"We're both embarrassing," she laughed, "I counted the days using Cat Grant's schedule planner. I would have no idea what to say if she were to ask what the numbers are for."

"Well, I'm in no better situation than you are," he chuckled, "I count the days with one of the whiteboards they've provided at work. Imagine if a detective stumbles across my work and mistakes it for an elaborate crime scene analysis. I'll have absolutely no idea how to explain otherwise."

They laughed, and were quiet for awhile.

"Three hundred and thirty one days," she said softly afterwards, "that is roughly a hundred fifty days more than our previous meeting… I almost thought that you…" she paused and looked away, unable to meet his gaze, "when the days just went by, longer and longer, I started to think that-… I always knew there was a possibility of you never coming bac-… I thought you weren't coming back."

"I-… Kara," he said in an almost pleading manner, "please, don't ever think that way." He exhaled softly, but the thoughts that plagued them both could not be released as easily as air. "I know it's painful, but don't give up on us… don't give up on me."

Her gaze returned to his, and beneath the gathering clouds of uncertainty, he saw the undying trust and faith she had for him; and it pained him even more – because he knew, beyond a doubt, if there came a day he could no longer travel between worlds, she would continue waiting for him - unwavering, like the love they have for one another. "Never."

"I will never give up on you, Barry Allen."

And he knew it destroys her too, the same uncertainty of never seeing him again; to never know if it was because of a falling out, an accident, or even him losing his powers. It was a painful void of incertitude, and the longer they held on, the sweeter – yet the more excruciating the crossing of distances become.

They were quiet for a long while, and he suddenly spoke, no longer able to keep his thoughts still.

"I- I can't lose you, Kara," he stuttered, "I can't imagine a world – worlds, without you."

"I am no better than the villains that I've fought, perhaps much worse… and it makes me afraid, of not just never seeing you again… but afraid of what I would do given the chance." His lips parted, as though searching for the words to continue, "Because Kara… I'm selfishly and insufferably in love with you, and I know when the day comes, there is nothing I wouldn't do, no worlds I wouldn't risk, just to see you one more time."

His head drooped, but she caught him, her eyes brightly refusing his gloomy despair. "Oh Barry…" she whispered, her fingers brushing across the side of his face – pulling him closer, her lips pressing lightly against his. "I…" she breathed, their lips coming to a still, "love you too."

"I love you, Barry Allen." They both knew of their feelings a long time back, but they've always pushed it off – hiding behind the shield of inevitability and heartbreak. 

It was the first time they've confessed their feelings, and it was all the more harrowing; for she knew then, they were already too far lost, drowning in an abyss of inexorable heartbreak. They both knew it was never meant to be, but yet, at this moment, there was nothing she loved more than he.

She kissed him again – wildly and ferociously; desperately as though their passion, the contact of their lips would hold him forever still in her world – but she knew it wasn't so, and thus, she kissed him even harder.

She pushed him backwards – the two of them sprawling across softened grass. She tugged at his clothing and he did hers; she could barely think, her mind overwhelmed by her suffocating thoughts, and the growing throb of coming pleasure.

She couldn't even remember how, but he was suddenly inside of her – full and warm, her body arching in response to his movements, shuddering and quivering as her nails clawed against his chest, pulling him further, deeper – a sensation, a feeling to remember, even in the days passed without Barry Allen.

It was exhilarating, and when it was over, she found herself curled up against him, feeling the gradual rising and falling of her chest matching his own.

She remembered the next few hours fondly, because they were the last she had with him for another long year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do not understand what I meant by painful inevitability of heartbreak: the time it took between each trip was growing, and each trip was shorter than the previous; they both knew and understood that his time was limited, and that one day, he might no longer be able to visit. Thus, inevitability and heartbreak. Which now that I think of it, is an awesome title too.
> 
> Also, forest sex, heh.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's quite unfair," Barry Allen pointed out suddenly, as he picked up the framed photograph by Kara's bedside table. In the photograph, the two of them were smiling happily, their faces pressed together with puckered lips. It was a day he remembered clearly, back when nothing else mattered in this world but the two. "You get to keep such beautiful memories."

Kara's head popped out from beneath the blankets they shared, her fingers drowsily rubbing against her closed eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked in-between tired yawns.

"The pictures," he said, "you get to keep them." He paused for a second, carefully placing the glass frame back onto the bedside table. "Remember how I'm able to bring any object into your world, but I'm unable to bring anything back to mine? Well, the last time I tried bringing photographs of us back… same results, disintegration upon arrival."

The objects from his world can pass harmlessly into hers, but upon his return trips, everything else fully disintegrates – even the clothing he wore, which led to an extremely uncomfortable and naked situation during his first trip back - for him and the rest of S.T.A.R. labs. There was no scientific explanation for the unusual phenomenon, and they were no closer to solving its equation than the first time he travelled to her world.

He turned back towards her, "I'm-… it's just a little depressing, that when I return home, there's nothing left for me to remember you by, at least until my next trip… however far away that may be." He then added in wistfully, "And it's not like we have interdimensional Facebook, or something I can add you up on… actually, do you guys even have Facebook?"

She nodded, then whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't know." Her hands slid up his chest and came to a stop by the side of his cheek, her fingers lightly brushing across the light stubble that curved his jaw.

"Don't worry," he smiled, his own hand cupping over hers, "I have my memories, and Kara, we make the best memories."

"We do," she quietly agreed, "we really do."

But even Barry Allen could not hide the visible pain in his eyes. It was at least half a year since his last visit, and between the tougher days and perpetual yearnings of his return, she at least had the photographs of them together.

He had nothing, but the fading memories of each bittersweet return.

Her hand left his chin, a soft trail down the blankets that shielded their naked forms. Her fingers slid past his naked chest, reaching behind him and pulling their bodies closer together. She pressed up against him, sliding into the space between both, their toes quickly touching, their chins greeting the other. She looked up, and his eyes warmly greeted hers, so closely she could see the mixed colors of his irises.

"Do you still remember?" she whispered, so softly, as though it was a secret shared only between the two, "what you said to me the last time?"

"We say a lot of things to each other, Kara," he replied, "but yes, I do remember all our conversations, no matter how little."

"Did you meant it?" she asked, her eyes shyly finding his.

"Of course, I do have a great memory," he said proudly, "I'm not photogenic, but-"

"No silly," she smiled, "I mean… when you said you love me."

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the suddenness of her question. He knew there were plenty of times he tried convincing himself otherwise, a pathetic attempt in saving them both from the inevitability of a sinking heartbreak.

There were many times he tried telling himself their relationship was nothing more than a dalliance of sorts – a short termed interdimensional love affair, an insignificant portion of their lives they'll learn to love, and be quick to move on and forget; for they belonged not to the other, but the laws of their own multiverse.

But Barry Allen knew, beyond anything else, and regardless of whichever world they were in, there was no possible way for him to convince himself otherwise, not when each little glance in her direction, filled him with the earnestness of their love – and for the first time in his life, with her by his side, he felt, more than anything else, complete.

"I do," he whispered, "with all of me."

"But-…" she looked away momentarily, terrified of the truth they both knew.

"And it's okay," he smiled, "even if the multiverse itself threatens to tear us apart, even if we don't end up together in the end, even if the day comes when I'm no longer able to travel to your world, and even if, in the years passed when we meet and fall in love with others, I will still, always, forever, and completely, love you, Kara Danvers."

She knew it was true; the both of them did, and it was all the more painfully heart breaking.

But at that moment, minutes before she knew he had to return, there was little else Kara wanted to do, but to remain snuggled up against the man she too, loved with all her heart, and a little bit more.

 


End file.
